


Between God and the Moon

by Red_Papermoon



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 17:43:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19256059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Papermoon/pseuds/Red_Papermoon
Summary: What do you expect from joining an organization that recreates the word „moral“ as another, very „elastic“ term? Once you're in it, you should not expect much from your liefe again. This organization won't permit any kind of normality anymore. It will decide about your name's meaning. It will engulf your name in the abyss of disregard. It is actually very unlikely that a motte will be as loved an accepted as a gorgeous butterfly, but at the end of the day no one can deny the fact that everyone is just searching for someone who can hold your hand when you're simply no longer able to abide your own self – but what happens to those who could never find such a human being for themselves?





	Between God and the Moon

He didn't need no clock to know that it was late.  
He didn't need no clock to know that it was too late.  
He didn't need no clock to know that it was too late – again.  
Itachi missed those times where this concept of „day and night“ still existed. Those days you woke up and those nights you slept in. Right now, there is only this kind of time that's either too bright or too dark. The sun herself became a symbol for the calm before the storm though her light is seldomly visible lately.

Sleep was a precious commodity.  
He knew that, yet he laid sleepless in his bed for more than three hours straight an secretly cried every minute of the calm. That room...this room...could be best described bey the words „stinted“ and „gapless“. There is a bed on the left side of the room and a small wardrobe on the right side at the wall. Both the bed as wells as the wardrobe are probably from times before he was even born. At the wall, across from the door, wide steel pipes are running. Hot water was tranmitted through them and sometimes, hot smoke came out of the rusty ventiles. Furthermore, there was this heat which was not bearable at any time. Anyway, the dark haired boy was freezing like in the deepest wintertime. While the swaet was covering his entire body. His lips tasted salty, his sweater and his trousers sticked to his skin in an uncomfortable way.  
His skin...Recently, it was even paler than it has been ever since he was born anyway His skin and his facial features which were quite smooth for the facial features of a man made another member of Akatsuki call him „doll face“. Another member remembered this nickname and got to call him „doll face“ from this day on. His thin fingers nervously hold his blanket beneath him. He was lying on his side. His back was facing the door. A hopeless attempt to stop his constantly increasing Paranoia. Everything unexpected let his nerves dissapear soon an his heart race.This false calm encumbered him and he began to ask him whether it is worth it to foresee the upcoming: the faster it comes the faster it is over. The time of waiting was almost a bigger torture than the actual act. What a bitter insight. One of many insights lately.

It was another thirty minutes before he could hear his heavy footsteps in the corridor outside. Invoruntanily, the young sharinganuser pulled his legs closer to him. His knees kept coming closer and closer to his quivering chest as the dull sounds outside grew louder and louder. His teammate was a frequent, but uninvited guest. One of those who could not be stopped. It would also not do any good to lock the door to his room. It would be close then...so what? He would kick himself in and his newfound security was all nonsense. By the way, just pulling the cover over your head had never been very effective. Of course, if that makes you invisible, he would try, but he would then just make a fool of himself.

Itachi would recognize the sound of these steps everywhere. They are not shallow and unobstrusive. More confident and sneering.  
The heavy door behind him was opened and immediatly closed again. Here, with a temperature of 40 degrees celsius and the younger one in these four walls, one cold shudder after the other shot through that slender body. He could feel the sharp glances that drove his silhouette away and caused a strong feeling of anxiety in him.

A hand fell on his shoulder, Of course it was nonsense, but for Itachi, this hand weighed more than a ton. As if he was strangled under this sheer weight, while the fingers of it dug slightly into his pale skin and already left the first red weals on him.

„I hope you had enough sleep, kid.“

A sentence with the aftertaste of a trick question. Kisame himself did not expect any form of response from the younger one. After all, what he wanted laid right in front of him, and every drop of uncertaintly that down the flawless cheeks of the object of desire.

That's how it was in Amegakure...where days and nights so much longer.


End file.
